


prelude for straying stars

by stardusting



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Falling In Love, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Stars, gratuitous headcanons about bookman clan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6638578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardusting/pseuds/stardusting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Who are you?” Lavi finds himself speaking in a whisper of disbelief in part due to what’s happening around him, falling stars that sang and a boy born from one. He can feel the interest curling in his own tone and has to hold back the barrage of questions that stick at the back of his throat. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. all men have stars but they are not the same

**Author's Note:**

> this story is heavily inspired by _the little prince_ by antonie de saint-exupéry which you don’t have to read to understand but if you’ve never read it please please do. it’s just a short little children’s book that you can knock out in an hour or two maybe less if youre a fast reader. it will change your life and you will wonder how it passed as a children’s book in the first place. that being said, some elements of it will be taken directly from the book and interwoven in here, particularly a lot of the bigger messages so be prepared for that. 
> 
> a scene in this chapter is also inspired by a scene in howl's moving castle too, you'll know it when you read it. 
> 
> also shout out to my beta for reading this over, i love her.

 

 

> _all men have stars, but they are not the same things for different people. for some, who are travelers, the stars are guides. for others they are no more than little lights in the sky. for others, who are scholars, they are problems... but all these stars are silent._
> 
> _-the little prince by_ antonie de saint-exupéry

 

 

 

 

Bookmen have no need for gods.

This is a principle that Lavi has been raised with since he first began his apprenticeship. It is a maxim that has ingrained itself deep in his bones and made a home beneath his skin and in his bloodstream.

Facts and written history, things seen with his own eyes or with the eyes of others in his clan, have more solidity than raising praises at deities that no one living has ever laid eyes upon. The ones that claimed they have seen such sights – religious epiphanies spoken by religious zealots – aren’t given much thought, if any at all. There is no proof besides bright eyes on the cusp of delusional, insistent nature reaching out to those who grasp blindly at tales, all in hopes of putting their faith in something or someone else they deem greater because they’re too afraid to put that fragile feeling in themselves or the hands of another equally as flawed individual.

It is one of the many follies that Lavi sees in humans, not surprising but it always manages to elicit disappointment out of the boy regardless. There have been hundreds of religious wars, after all; the sheer amount causes him to see no point in religion if that is all it brings in the end, and makes him wonder why it’s impossible for people to see the signs of history in repeat. But humans love to wage war for even the smallest things: flying under the banner of a god creates an illusion of devotion and bravery rather than greed and bloodlust.

Yet, there are nights in which Bookman will raise his head to the velvet black of the night sky, tongue speaking in a language only known to them and their people. It is almost like he seeks the stars for a form of consolation and a handful of ancient wisdom. And maybe he is, for the stars have been hanging in the sky longer than any person has been on earth and will still be there when the last human takes a final breath and for years beyond that. If they had eyes they would have truly seen it all from the very beginning and the spaces before when there was nothing to see.

Lavi thinks if he had to put his belief in something besides history written in black ink on off-white parchment, he would place it the stars and cosmos beyond. Listen to their stories if they had anything to tell, but they’re too far away and of course they don’t speak. Such a dream is childish, and he places no hope in the possibility of it ever happening. He has the thought once when he is young and never again after time and war help shape him to be less of a dreamer and more of a realist.

 

*

  
The Clan of Bookmen reside somewhere secluded and out of reach, deep in the mountainside nestled on the border of a country. It’s hard to stumble upon by accident and impossible to look for even if you know what is being sought after. The magic of their Clan is ancient and great, protective of the people and secrets, so much so that even an apprentice must wait three years after being christened with their first name before they are even allowed to see the caverns for the first time.

Lavi remembers the first time he entered the ancient mountainside, felt the history written into the stone walls and marveled at the vastness of the tunnels that lead to different rooms filled with countless volumes of texts written by hand with great care over the years. Bookman had told him, more than once during his first stay, not to wander so far away that he couldn’t see firelight. It was easy to get lost without an older guide to accompany him.

 _You’ll know this place well one day._ The elder had said, words spoken as close to a promise as they’d ever get after slipping a mask over the apprentice’s features. A tradition as ancient as the clan itself, one was not to reveal their face in the caverns until their thirtieth name, for such a milestone spoke of great travels and history learned, respect came from numbers and knowledge and journals filled no matter the age.

The village that lies closest to them sits on the mountain’s valley, less than half a day’s ride on horseback. It is small and traditional and the people speak their own language and have their own customs, tucked away safely from the going ons in the world, for now at least. The people there are welcoming and peaceful, they know of the ancient clan that sits somewhere in the mountain range and refer to Lavi as their _distant brother_ whenever he passes through. And pass through and stay the boy oft does whenever he can make the time to do so between comings and goings.

He does not speak his name and they do not ask him for it, far used to the few habits of the mountain dwellers they have picked up over the years. Yet they treat him just the same as any of the boys native to their village, excited for his arrivals and sad at his departures. It’s all rather heartwarming, but Lavi knows better than to get attached despite their niceties towards him. He plays the part easily and without a detectable flaw. He’d feel terrible about lying and tossing fake smiles if it wasn’t what he was raised on for over ten years of his life.

 

*

 

On the week where he is supposed to be gifted his fiftieth name, Lavi visits the village proper because he has time to spare and is interested in why everyone seemed to be bustling around. Excitement is a palpable feeling in the air and the bookman junior thrills at the thought of learning something new.

“So, what’s going on?” He sidles up to a girl who he grew fond of over the years. (That is, he is as fond of her as he can be when his heart is indifferent to the matters of close relationships with people.) She is more a young woman now that a few years time has passed between them and she sits on the steps of a hut, sewing fabrics of a skirt together, peaceful despite the noise around her.

She only startles mildly at his voice, marriage and courting bracelets made of bone clacking together softly at her movements. The bracelets are deftly painted, intricate designs a reflection of a new union. Lavi remembers her as a girl he found pretty when he first saw her, soft spoken yet stern when needed and crafty when given the chance, and good with a bow. She is still pretty and whoever married her is lucky.

“Brother, you startled me!” Her voice is more fond than scolding and she lets out a weary sigh, places her task on her lap. “When did you arrive?” If she wasn’t so used to his sporadic visits, perhaps she’d be more surprised to see him.

The redhead, not minding that his first question goes unanswered for the time being, gives a smile that borders on playful and kind. “Came into the area a couple days ago and decided to visit you.”

His flattery is met with an eye roll and the gently jostling of his shoulder, the woman never easily swayed by his compliments to begin with and marriage having probably steeled her down even more. “Well, I must thank you. Your visits are always a delight.” Her autumn brown eyes gleam with curiosity. “Did you bring back any stories to tell? The younger children always love your stories.”

He feigns insulted pride and lets out an affronted gasp. “Of course I have. What kind of traveler would I be if I didn’t come back with something interesting?”

“I suppose you’re right.” She hums softly, picks up the fabric again and continues sewing where she left off. “You can tell them at the festival tomorrow if you’re still around.”

Ah, there it is, the near answer to the bout of curiosity that brought him over in the first place. “What festival?”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re never around for it.” Her head bobs slightly, like in agreement to herself about the statement. “You’ll enjoy it. Lots of dancing and storytelling and games, and even a feast.”

“Sure I will,” he agrees with her, resting his cheek against his palm. “I always love a good meal and a dance. What’s the deal behind it, though?”

“It’s basically our turning of the year.” She starts all patient, calm, and still focused on her work despite saddled with the task of explaining something. “We call it the festival of fallen light.” She says it like it’s a delicate thing, and Lavi knows that word will be tricky to translate into any other language besides the one that falls from their tongues. “It’s when our gods’ children fall from the sky and make merry on near the lake. It is seen as the highest honor, so the village has a festival to show how grateful we are for the year no matter the hardships and that we welcome what is in store for us. We make sure to stay clear of the water from sunrise to sunset since it will be their sacred space when night falls.”

It is an interesting concept, Lavi must at least agree to that, unique in the way that he has never heard something done quite like that, similar in a sense, but nothing to exactly mirror it. He stores the new information securely in his mind and reminds himself to write it down later tonight and examine closely how the day of the festival pans out.

There is a good chance that another Bookman has come through this area and already written down what happens here, but it is hard to tell when dates pile up and as far as he knows, none of the other Bookmen spend less than a few hours in the village if they can help it. The older and more secluded ones, at least.

Besides, no one said there was anything wrong with updating information every few years or so. Different people and different dates mean a different outcome for even the same event after all and he’ll gladly be a spectator this year.

 

*

 

The next day, the festival starts when the sun rises and ends when the sun goes down.

Lavi makes sure to do as much as he can within that timeframe, chatting with all the age groups and dancing with a pretty girl or two. They accept him easily, like they always have in the past. Even the children born during his few years of absence clamor excitedly around him for the best and closest spots, no longer wary of his presence after seeing how easily their elder siblings interact around him. When he begins retelling carefully omitted tales of his travels, their eyes are wide and entranced.

One of his dance partners is a young girl with mouse brown hair who needs to stand on the tops of his feet so that they can dance something close to properly. She near pleads with him to stay in village, a bold declaration of wanting to marry him when she gets older spoken with the bravery that only someone so small and young can manage. It startles a laugh out of him, but a promise is not made, even in jest, only reassurance that he’d make sure to visit her if he ever found himself around again. That pleases her just the same and she stays by his side the rest of night until a group of children her age spirit her away to play games.

When night falls everyone is tucked safe inside their homes and sleeping off the excitement of the day. Lavi, a guest to an older couple that once had a family of seven children at a time, makes sure to stay awake once the village stills. He waits until the moon nearly reaches its peak in the sky before quietly making his way off to the lake. Though the rules of staying away from the area are still in place, such things do not apply to the junior and never have, now even more so since he does not hold belief in the same gods the people do. Their rituals are not his to follow verbatim, only observe.

The lake is beautiful when he gets there, quiet and serene with the moon reflecting perfectly on the surface. It seems close enough to touch and pluck right out of the sky if he wished to do so. The image before him does not change for a few minutes of calm, when suddenly it does and a streak of light makes its way across the sky. Soon others follow after it and the night is alight with comets that are often easily mistaken for falling stars. The realization causes the apprentice to chuckle softly to himself. He knows that away from a world rapidly changing there is always an obligation to find an explanation for every phenomenon the natural earth has to offer, especially if the truth is less than interesting.

Curiosity towards the event sated, the redhead prepares his leave before the sound of something dropping, clear and resounding like a silver spoon clattering on the floor, halts his steps. There are ripples in the water of the lake and not even ten seconds later those ripples are joined by others until it’s like rain hitting the surface, except there’s light falling instead of water. None of them touch his skin, but some graze close enough to cause a rustle of his hair and clothes. The space surrounding him is filled with a sound that resembles chiming bells, dissonant in how they come together.

Light shines on the surface of the water and childish laughter comes forth, jovial and drifting like voices being carried away by a breeze that isn’t there. It fills the once quiet night within seconds, the noise and shine like the festival that took place mere hours before.

The redhead blinks his eye once, twice, and pivots in place to get a good look at what is unfurling around him. Stars are still falling around him and, instead of scorch marks being left when they hit the ground, they hop forward like skipping pebbles on the surface of water. He feels like he’s imagining it when they form small and translucent bodies and join each other in circles, childlike voices rising in songs that he doesn’t know the words to and can’t even begin to figure out.

It all feels like a dream, but a Bookman cannot afford the inability to distinguish illusions from reality so he knows he is very much awake and is a witness to something grand and otherworldly. It is something that needs to go on paper as soon as he gets to his ink and journal and he curses himself for not having the foresight to bring the materials with him before he left. Maybe he can jot down a few sketches before the images leave his mind as well; an event like this is not easily explained in words.

Instead of going back to his supplies like he probably should, there is a feeling of compulsion that urges the teen to cup his hands together and hold them out. It is a practically childish drive, like tilting his heads back when it rains to catch water in his mouth. Lavi does not know exactly why he does it, but his efforts are rewarded when in his hands falls a shimmering star (he isn’t sure if he can even call them that at this point) almost like it was ready to be caught by whoever was willing to take the chance.

It is a warm weight nestled in the palms of his hands and it has a gently thrumming nature to it, almost like it’s alive. _Congratulations. You did it. Congratulations._ A voice soft and laced with laughter speaks through his bones and whispers soft in his ears.

It is shocking to realize the star might really have a voice, but even more so is the bright light that emits from the object in his hands without warning. Lavi closes his eye and turns his head away from the glow, one part out of shock and three parts due to the instinctive need to keep his only eye from any damage. Whatever is currently happening is warm against his skin, like a comfortable summer breeze in the middle of June.  
The feeling does not last long however, ending as soon as it began. All that’s left is the cool feeling of the night air and a gently laugh that he hears clearly over the hymnals of dancing remainders of light still celebrating on not knowing what to expect at this point.

He surely doesn’t expect to find hands resting in his upturned palms, smaller than his own and hidden beneath white gloves, belonging to a boy who is shorter and slighter than he is. Hair white like moonlight, which glimmers just the same, is unnatural on someone that appears so young and the sable raiments trimmed with white-gold that the person wears seem more expensive than anything Lavi’s ever seen before. It is surprising to see a scar that burns a harsh and angry red across otherwise pale features, but what is one more surprise and shock tonight?

“Who are you?” Lavi finds himself speaking in a whisper of disbelief in part due to what’s happening around him, falling stars that sang and a boy born from one. He can feel the interest curling in his own tone and has to hold back the barrage of questions that stick at the back of his throat. He’s a Bookman, after all, and should know better than to rush for information in a delicate situation.

The stranger blinks blue-grey eyes and wears an expression like he doesn’t know how to answer the presented question or hasn’t been asked such a thing in a long time and is caught off guard. (And maybe he hasn’t, Lavi isn’t sure what to think at this moment and can’t make too clear theorizations until all his thoughts are sorted out properly.) The boy tilts his head, brows furrow, and pink lips come together, all seemingly in thought. He hums a few seconds later, shrugs a shoulder in an idyllic nature, and the fabric only makes the softest of whispers from the of the movement but the black shimmers to a grey like there’s starlight threaded in the fabric.

“You,” he pauses, and Lavi can feel how scrutinizing the look is before eye contact is focused once again and a smile given. “Can call me Allen.” His voice is lilting, carrying an accent that hails from London proper, which only serves to add to the oddities surround the night.

Lavi, who has had forty-nine names to this date, all of which were fake and necessary, can tell the name proffered to him is a false one. It seems to fit just the same, regardless of it’s origin. He isn’t quite sure how, but that’s just how proper fake names ought to work, with some level of truth in the syntax and feel of it to be believable enough not to question outright or raise eyebrows.

“Lavi.” The redhead offers the name he will soon get rid of in return, with a smile he gives to all strangers automatically slipping in place.

If Allen can detect the not-quite truth of that name or how fake the smile actually is, then it does not show on his features. Lavi thinks for small and fleeting second that this will be interesting for however long it lasts.

 

 

 

 

  
( _Oh_ , how lovely it is, watching the universe align for them.)


	2. rocks and cathedrals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When you catch a falling star you can make a wish.” Allen says, shifting a lock of hair behind his ear after a little one is done whispering secrets. Lavi catches sight of an intricately designed ear cuff colored silver before Allen turns his head and eye contact is once again made. “I thought all people knew that.” It’s not accusatory or conceited, just honest to goodness curiosity in his tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay in this chapter! this is what i get for starting a story right before a have to go on a couple weeks long vacation, but here we are!
> 
> there was more i wanted to put in this chapter, but i realized it was a lot so i had to cut it up into two parts kind of. i haven't started writing the third chapter yet, but i know how i want to to go, so hopefully you guys won't have to wait nearly two months for the next one.

 

 

> _a rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral._
> 
> - _the little prince_ by antonie de saint-exupéry
> 
>  

 

 

There is a silence that stretches between them after names are exchanged, like waiting for everything to sink in for a moment. It is Allen who moves first, takes a minor step back and grips onto one of Lavi’s hands while letting the other fall to his side. There’s a raised eyebrow and a hold that tightens minutely, an unspoken question that hangs in the air.

It’s tempting, to further go along with this encounter. Lavi knows that whatever he starts that there’s no going back from it, or maybe there was no going back from it when he held his hand out to catch that star, fate sealed in that one moment. It’s something he doesn’t regret though, not when it seems to have opened the gateway for a magnificent sort of something.

He feels like he shouldn’t speak despite the questions in his head, not yet at least, not with this fragile moment between them, a byproduct of the atmosphere that’s been created in just a short while. Allen is otherworldly, ethereal in appearance, and the lights that constantly shift and the music that still weaves through the air just enhance this. This person that came from a near blinding light could very disappear as easily as he showed up and lleave the apprentice with an aching sort of wonder and want. It would be like waking up from a good dream only to be unable to reach again.

Lavi exhales and nods his head once, the indication of accepting whatever is next in store for him. He wonders if this is how Alice felt when she found the nerve to go down that rabbit hole, all her curiosity driving her to take the plunge. Lavi doesn’t even care for Alice and her adventures that much.

Allen grins at the confirmation, shoulders visibly relaxing in relief for some reason or another. They are strangers after all, why should care if Lavi accepted the invitation? Allen turns around then, starts walking further through the valley, the grip on Lavi’s hand not too firm or too loose, a perfect hold. His steps are confident as they go, like he’s been doing this for ages, doesn’t have to look down to avoid the dancing stars at their feet and keeps his head held high. Lavi notes the ribbon that keeps white hair in place, sees how it flickers from black to silver like the fanciful clothes Allen wears.

He doesn’t stop until they reach the near edge of the lake, where their joined hands are dropped and he turns around to face Lavi properly, arms crossed and elbows resting in his hands. Allen is shorter, Lavi notes then for some reason, but he doesn’t carry himself that way, not with his back straight and gaze unwavering.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The question is sudden, leaves Lavi mentally fumbling for an answer, not expecting something that requires such a simple reply. The look of confusion must be evident in his features because Allen laughs soon after, soft and tumbling, and hides it politely behind his hand.

“Tonight, I mean.” He clarifies, head raised to look up at the sky. “The sky is beautiful, don’t you think?”

The apprentice mimics the action in turn, raises his single eye to the ink black of the sky and has to admit, yes, tonight is lovely. Traveling has shown him many beauties that the world has to offer. The amount of stars visible when there is no major city nearby is one of the most breathtaking images when he really takes the time to admire it, which isn’t too often. He likes the city, likes how many people there are and the anonymity it gives him, but he always finds himself missing being able to look up and see the stars on some nights when their stays start feeling too long and boring.

“So, what are you going to wish for?”

Lavi focus his attention back to Allen, sees how he’s set himself down on the ground, and feels awed by how some of the living stars have taken an interest in his presence, their celebrating abandoned for the time being. They tug at the fabric of his clothes and climb to his shoulders, their light casting a warm glow across his features. Well, maybe it isn’t that odd, Allen is probably the same thing they are, just different in appearance for convenience sake.

That question isn’t what the bookman was expecting either, however, but he lessens the bewilderment to an eyebrow raise instead of slack mouthed surprise and widened eyes. Adapting to the casual air that Allen exhibits is as easy as breathing; Lavi allows himself to sit on the ground as well because of it, legs crossed and posture relaxed.

“What do you mean by wish?” It’s an honest question. Lavi gets wishing in theory, but doesn’t understand what it has to do with them meeting like this and what comes after.

Allen doesn’t answer immediately; a star fiddles with the strands of his hair and leans close to his ear, like it’s whispering a secret. Lavi feels only a little jealous, anything more would just be silly. Maybe it’s not even jealously, just admiration. If those lights could talk, and they probably can because their singing seems to have some sort of meaning, then Allen would no doubt be able to understand them. He would know for what reason why they sing and dance and the answer to why they’re here and just about everything Lavi has a question about. Patience is still the key though, and the apprentice knows better than to inquire outright. He’s been taught that he won’t be guaranteed an honest answer going about it like that; every person has the capability of lying and does so when they feel their privacy being dug too deeply into.

“When you catch a falling star you can make a wish.” Allen says, shifting a lock of hair behind his ear after a little one is done whispering secrets. Lavi catches sight of an intricately designed ear cuff colored silver before Allen turns his head and eye contact is once again made. “I thought all people knew that.” It’s not accusatory or conceited, just honest to goodness curiosity in his tone.

Amused despite himself, Lavi quirks his lips upward slightly. “Uh, not really. It’s usually when you wish upon a shooting star and those aren’t even stars to begin with, but a lot of people don’t even know that.”  
“I know that much.” Allen’s tone shifts, amused as well. “They’re comets. It doesn’t really help wishing on them, they’re too small and flighty, can’t really take the responsibility of wish granting even if they could.”

That…that is unexpected, the way he speaks of things comprised of ice and rock like they’re actual sentient beings, like he knows them well and has even spoken to a few in passing. Lavi feels his mind whirring, trying to piece together an explanation, but for once his thought process hits a wall. He doesn’t know what to say in retaliation; speechless isn’t something he likes to be in any situation, but this perfect stranger has left him such in a state in just less than an hour of being in each other’s company.

“Comets aren’t alive.” Is all he can manage to say, but even that feels like a weak reasoning to his own ears. He really hates it, the sudden uncertainty about his information. It’s an uncomfortable feeling that he gets sometimes and the old man says that it’s part of learning process and why Lavi’s still an apprentice. It doesn’t mean he has to like it when it does show up.

The look he gets in return is flat and unamused. Allen shakes his head slowly and a star that has made a perch amongst the ivory strands doesn’t tumble down at the motions. “Saying that is like saying everything else isn’t alive, either. Rather offensive, don’t you think?”

“Well, you’re talking about something from space,” Lavi defends. He’s read enough information about the universe, both disproven theories and all, to have a good enough grasp on it. He knows more than the average person at least, and that’s all that matters even if space itself isn’t one of his bigger interests. “Space really isn’t a prime hotspot for living things, well besides Earth, but we’re an anomaly as far as astronomers are concerned. It’s literally just rocks and cold and dark and stars scattered about.”

“Space is endless and very colorful, actually brighter than you’d expect with all the stars around. It’s this galaxy that’s a little dim in comparison, but it’s pretty quaint.” Allen says the words like he’s discussing the feel of a house or a neighborhood rather than the galaxy as a whole. “You really think what’s out there isn’t living?”

“It’s not possible. Without oxygen and water nothing would live on a desolate rock or a star. The sun’s a star and no one can manage that type of heat, they’d burn up before they’d get close.”

“Pay attention, Lavi.” Allen sighs like a weary teacher that’s already exhausted the topic at hand. “Nobody said anything about living on a star. I more or less implied that those things are already living, actually.”

That makes a lot less sense than what he was defending against. Lavi doesn’t hide it, the blatant look of confusion on his face; it feels like it’s warranted to be so expressive right now. “That’s impossible.” To be simply put.

“I guess it is, if you look at it from whatever angle you’re sticking with. When something’s alive long enough, it kind of gains a sense of self and things in space live a long time.” Allen makes it feel like the easiest thing to explain and in turn understand, like the topic at hand is about tying shoelaces or something as equally mundane instead of how sentient space is.

That would explain why Allen referred to himself as a star. Lavi’s mind had pushed that aside as soon as it left his mouth due to the simple fact that it didn’t make much sense and seemed impossible. It still doesn’t make any sense, and yet it makes all the sense in the world. It explains so much and yet so little and leaves the apprentice wanting desperately to find more answers so he isn’t left in the odd in between state of being certain and uncertain. A traitorous side of him finds it all exhilarating, discovering someone that’s a mystery draped in black and silver vestments and that draws the stars towards him even when sitting idle and claims that the objects in space are living beings.

“You weren’t that hot, though.” The words of a sudden realization leave his mouth before he can properly sort through them like he’d have preferred to do. Allen gives him a look mixed with shock and confusion and Lavi has to figure out a way to dig himself out of this odd hole he’s made because of the unrefined blurting. “When I held you? You weren’t that hot and stars are super-heated, beyond that really.”

“No, of course not.” Allen says softly, taps his chin in thought for a few seconds before providing an explanation. “I’m not…we aren’t actually physically the stars themselves. There is a star we have. We are that star and that star is us, essentially, but we have the freedom to move around and stray from that star if we so choose. Not everyone does, though.”

Lavi accepts the answers, as much as he can anyway, mind still muddled and filled with newfound information that he doesn’t quite believe yet. He just nods, quiet, needs to pause and think of everything that just transpired and the information he just gained. He wonders what would happen if he wrote this all in his current journal to be confirmed for possible records, not completely official like what goes in the caverns but to prove his time as an apprentice really did happen and he has the work to show for it. Would the old man disregard it as a dream or accept it as an anomaly that exists beyond regular comprehension?

There is magic in the world, they know, blood magic usually and even that is old and nearly wiped from history due to witch hunts in the past. Whatever this is can’t compare to that, however. It’s stronger, gives a life to things that shouldn’t have life to begin with, like a forbidden spell to raise a dead lover, but stronger still since there’s no dead body to tinker around with.

There’s a star that braves being near Lavi during his contemplative state, tiny like a doll and as curious as the children in the village when they first saw him. He only watches as it climbs on his knee, weight of it nonexistent with only the warmth of its presence letting him know that it’s actually there. He thinks he looks it in the eyes, if it has them, and continues to track it as it walks across his leg and tugs at the front of his shirt for balance when it gets close enough. It’s rather endearing to watch.

“We don’t interact with people often.” Allen’s voice is soft and so is his expression when Lavi turns to look at him. Stars hang from his clothes and clamor around him, as comfortable with him as he is with them. It strikes Lavi as an image that fits him well.

“Do you try to avoid them then?” Lavi asks as his own little star climbs his arm like it’s a tree, it’s shining light visible in his periphery. How polite of it to stay on his good side.

“Not really, we stick to places where the stars are most visible. It just so happens that they end up being where there aren’t a whole lot of people. I don’t think it was like this in the past, but things have changed.”

There’s wistfulness and the barest hint of a sigh in Allen’s voice and Lavi isn’t sure if he misses a time when the stars were more visible or when he could interact with more people. Maybe both since they seem to be tied together. Nowadays, everyone’s moving to the cities for various reasons and -

“Wait!” Realization hits the apprentice in the form of a sudden epiphany. He jumps up from his position, startles the star that made its way on his shoulder who grips tightly at his hair to stay on. Lavi ignores the sting of pain from having the strands pulled and hopes some haven’t been tugged out of his scalp.

Allen is alarmed as well, just as startled from the outburst which causes him and the others that had stuck to him to jump and chime in alarm. “What?” His voice is tentative and body suddenly tenses from the abruptness of the actions.

Lavi has changed the atmosphere surrounding the two of them, but pays it no mind for now. “You said you used to interact with people more in the past?”

“I haven’t personally, not a whole lot of people that is, but stars have been making their way onto Earth since it first formed pretty much.” Still seeming unsure, he adds, “Why?”

Lavi doesn’t really hear the last question, mind going in full gear. The falling stars are just the kind of secret history that the Bookman Clan would easily write about, elusive beings that belong to the boundaries outside of the Earth. There might be an entry or two written on them that he’d just have to locate, if he is allowed to that is. Being an apprentice meant that he had limited access to some of the older and more delicate records, a precaution just in case his apprenticeship ended suddenly for whatever reason. They didn’t want information being slipped into the wrong hands, and Lavi couldn’t really blame them. People of their clan have always ending up being highly sought after once the wrong people knew of their existence; with ties being neutral and loyalties to others nonexistent, they have made enemies in the past.  
Maybe if he mentions Allen or brings him to the caverns but… “How long are you staying here?” He’s some weird embodiment of a star, did he leave when the sun rose or maybe he becomes useless when night ends?

“I won’t leave until you make a wish. The others are leaving at first light, though.” There’s a wariness reflected in those blue grey eyes that narrow, suspicion visible etched into his body language. Lavi almost feels sorry about it, almost. He can’t really find it in him to care at the moment.

The thing about wishing is still ridiculous to his ears, but Lavi doesn’t feel like arguing about it right now since it’s proving to be useful. It’ll just add to the pile of things about Allen that doesn’t make any sense, that is to say everything about his entire existence. Lavi still doesn’t understand, finds it hard to believe since it goes against things he’s already steeled in his mind as the truth. Seeing possible records of events similar to what he just experienced will confirm and rid him of his doubts; backup confirmation is always needed, especially when magic is involved.

“Well, I have no idea what to wish for so I guess you’re stuck here.” Lavi admits, a smile wide on his face and he feels like he’s won something. Wishing is a childish practice that he hasn’t partaken in years, at least not in the fanciful nature of wishing on stars or at special moments in the day. He’s not one for material items and money so that significantly narrows down his choices. He wonders if there are limits to what one can wish for.

Allen, still neither eased nor amused by the words, keeps his expression neutral sans the slight frown on his face. “If I feel like you’re taking too long, I can just leave myself. Staying past a day would just a moral obligation, really.”

There’s an underlying warning detectable in the statement, a promise that goes unspoken. It seems Allen is not one to be used for personal gain, someone that doesn’t mind going out of his way for others but isn’t a pushover by any means. He wouldn’t be pleased with how Lavi really conducts himself, not with how the bookman junior sees most people as insignificant unless they’ve changed the course of history themselves. There are not a lot of people that can garner that sort of attention. Allen really isn’t one of those types either, no matter how otherworldly he is, just someone Lavi sees as a way to get information he wasn’t privy to before. Primary sources are highly valued, but in the end they are just a line or lines (if they’re lucky) of citation in one of many records. People are just ink on paper; it’s the information that’s valued in the end.

Lavi has been part of this for over ten years now, knows precisely how to play the game. He knows how to get people to trust him even though he’d rather them not, it really just depends on his mood for what personality he’s to present. Allen already shows wariness at his sudden change in disposition, so distant and apathetic isn’t the way to go to make this all work out.

“Sorry about that.” Lavi says, gives an apologetic smile that’s believable. “I just realized something so I got a little excited.”

Allen relaxes then, taking the words as truth and unknots the muscles that tense his shoulders. “Understandable.”

Then there’s a silence that stretches on, not necessarily awkward but tension is there that’s slowly dissipating. Lavi doesn’t want to wait for it to disappear completely, time isn’t something that should be wasted, so he sits back down on the grass and the star that clung to his clothes darts off as soon as it hits the ground. Lavi’s only a little offended at how easily he was abandoned.

“So, where are you going to stay?” Lavi decides to ask, stirs another conversation that probably needs to happen soon. It’s late and only getting later still.

It’s Allen’s turn to look confused, head canted slightly to the side and brows furrowed. “You don’t live in the nearby village?”

“Of course not.” Head shaking for further emphasis, the bookman junior continues, “I just visit sometimes, like now. I’m spending the night, but I don’t live here per se.”

“Oh.” Allen sighs, lips pursed in a thin line for a moment before speaking up again. “That’s what I get for assuming. This makes things a bit more difficult since I don’t really want to impose on strangers. Maybe I’ll just stay out here, nearby and out of sight.”

How selfless and possibly risky on many levels. Lavi doesn’t how resilient Allen’s body is and doesn’t feel like that’s the thing to ask someone he’s just met. Nights in the valley can get fairly cold, especially near the lake, and it isn’t like there’s proper shelter, all flat grass for miles around. Allen has good intentions but they don’t seem to be worth the trouble. The people in the village are nice; they’d house him for a few nights easily.

“You don’t have to do that.” Lavi gives reassurance and a smile. “I’ll extend my visit for a few more days and vouch for you so you can have a place to sleep until I can think of my wish or whatever.”

“But you said you’re only visiting.”

A hand raises, dismissing the statement with a nonchalant wave. “It’s not like I have anything better to do. I can spare a few days at least.” Lavi didn’t need to show up until his naming ceremony and even if the old man needed him earlier than that it wouldn’t be too much work to send out a raven to come find him.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Allen says, sounding a little more convinced than before.

“Of course I’m sure, don’t worry about it. But now that that’s settled, we should probably go. It’s kind of late.” More than kind of late and Lavi is tired, events from the day and the fact that he hasn’t gotten any sleep yet catching up to him. Just thinking about it brings about a yawn that he suppresses and hops up to wake himself up a bit.

Allen stands up soon after, a fluid grace in his movements and the rest of the stars that were attatched to him fall off, light and gently like leaves. That’s when Allen says something in a language Lavi’s never heard before, can’t even place what it’s similar too, but he assumes it means goodbye with how the lights chime back and rush off to join the others.

“Okay.” Allen turns back around, outfit flaring out around him slightly before settling against his legs. “I am in your care until further notice. Please take care of me.”

The smile Lavi gets is achingly polite, hard to tell if it’s genuine or done for the sake of politeness and force of habit. But he decides not to question it, returns the smile with one of his own all while hoping that accepting this star into his life is worth the effort it might bring.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!! and thank you to my beta who is very busy but found the time to edit this for me!

**Author's Note:**

> and that's a wrap for the first chapter and that you all so much for taking the time to read it. i have a good and clear idea of how i want this story to end and some of the pieces in between so i'm very excited to see this out to the end and i hope y'all are willing to stick around for it. 
> 
> i don't know when the second chapter will be out since i have a finale to worry about and i signed up for a gift exchange and other stuff coming up in the summer but i'll try not to make the wait too long. 
> 
> don't be afraid to tell me what you think about the story so far down in the comment section since this is my first dgm work. if you have specific questions about anything or just want chat about dgm or laven or anything my tumblr is [here](http://tearful.tumblr.com/)!


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